The Art of Self Defense
by Portmanteu
Summary: Clint is about to blindside the Avengers with the news of Loki's return to Earth. How will his team take such a revelation?
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing beyond the scenarios that my twisted little brain spits out. All characters within belong to bigger and better entities than I. Please do not sue, as I own literally nothing beyond the clothes on my back. Also, grammar and tenses sometimes escape me, so please, be kind.**_

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><p>"You did <em>what<em>!?" Tony demanded, looking wildly from one face to another before turning his gaze back to Clint. "Why would you think that was a _good_ idea?!" The billionaire kicked the end table nearest him, swearing up a blue streak before he growled out, "Jarvis? Get my suit."

Clint sighed, his eyes fixed on the floor as voices erupted around him. Thor was hefting his hammer, and promising dire repercussions should Stark continue that course of action. Banner had backed away, holding his silence. Steve, of course, was attempting to be the voice of reason. And Tasha? Well, Clint could feel her stare burning into the top of his head.

_'It all started so well,'_ Clint thought mournfully. _'Shoulda known it wouldn't last.'_

**x-x-x**

He and Thor had turned up at Avengers tower bright and early the day after their return from Asgard. Clint had been wary of telling the team what had transpired, but Thor had insisted that the longer he waited, the harder they would take the news of Loki's return. No amount of grousing or bargaining would deter the Thunder God, and finally Clint had given in.

"Fine," he'd said. "Might as well get it over with."

Thor had beamed at him and clapped one large hand on the archer's back, nearly knocking him over.

"Fear not, my friend," he'd boomed. "I am certain that once you tell the tale, the others will accept your decision."

He really _should_ have known that wouldn't happen.

**x-x-x**

When they'd entered the common room, Stark had called out, "Blondie! Didn't expect to see you back so soon! And you've got Clint in tow. Don't tell me you guys had a bonding weekend and didn't invite _me_!"

Clint stayed quiet as he crossed the room, sinking down into one of the sleek, modern chairs that faced the couch. He cast a quick glance around, taking a mental roll call of his team-mates.

Bruce was perched on the arm of the couch, his attention focused on the tablet he held.

Tasha was outside, leaning against the balcony railing and staring out over the city, seemingly unaware of his and Thor's arrival.

Steve was at the bar, his ever-present sketch pad flipped open in front of him…but he'd set aside his pencil and was frowning lightly at Clint.

The archer tensed under his scrutiny. Cap definitely knew something was up, and Clint felt the first real tendrils of panic roil in his belly as he considered all the ways this could go so very wrong.

Tony had fallen into step with Thor, still bantering with the blonde god, but Clint couldn't make out a word of what he was saying. A low buzz was growing in his ears, and he fought the urge to just stand up and walk away. To just say 'fuck it', head home, scoop up Loki and leave everything he'd ever known behind him.

But this wasn't something he could run from, no matter how much he wanted to.

The sound of the sliding glass door opening behind him cut through the rising noise in his head, and Tasha skirted around his chair to take a seat on the couch. She gave him a questioning look and tilted her head to the side.

"Clint?" she asked softly. "What's the matter?"

He held her gaze for a long moment, the words sticking in his throat before he dropped his eyes to the carpet between his feet.

"So where _were_ you yesterday, Barton?" Tony cut in. "You missed movie night…and you _never_ pass up a chance at free popcorn and beer."

"We were in Asgard, speaking to the council on Loki's behalf," Thor offered cheerfully.

Clint could almost hear the old Record Scratch of Silence trope as everyone froze at Thor's announcement. He clenched his eyes shut for a brief moment, thinking, _'And here we go.'_

"You did what now?" Tony questioned, the confusion plain in his voice. "Tell me I heard that wrong."

"Nope," Clint replied quietly. "You heard it just fine. We were in Asgard."

"Why would you…what is going on here?" Tony asked.

"Clint provided testimony that showed Loki was not acting under his own power during the invasion," Thor explained. "I had long suspected such, but was unable to prove it without Barton's help."

"And why, _exactly_, would Clint offer to help you with that?" Tony demanded. "Last I knew, he wasn't in any way, shape or form a Loki fan-boy."

"Because he didn't deserve to shoulder all the blame," Clint snapped.

"Bullshit," Tony roared, startling Clint into looking up at him. "He led an invasion that killed _hundreds_ of people, or are you forgetting that?"

"And I killed my share, too," Clint stated blandly. "But you said…you ALL said that wasn't my fault because of the thrall. Why is it any different for Loki?"

Tony uttered a choked noise of rage in lieu of an answer, and Clint murmured, "Don't have an answer for that, do you?"

"It's not the same at all," Tony finally growled.

"No?" Clint questioned. "Tell me how it's different, Stark. Tell me why it's okay for me, but not for him."

"He sort of has a point," Steve said from across the room.

"You've got to be kidding me," Tony exclaimed, turning to face Cap as he crossed the room to the couch area. "Are you turning on me, too, Steve? Loki is no innocent!"

"I'm not saying he is," Steve replied evenly. "But unless you've been in Loki's head, you don't know for sure how deep his involvement ran."

Tony waved a dismissive hand Steve's way before turning back to Clint. "Look at me," he ordered. "I want to see your eyes."

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Clint exploded, pushing to his feet and stepping to Tony, fists balled at his sides. "Go on and look! You're not gonna find anything, you son of a bitch."

"Dammit, Tony," Steve huffed. "We've got Loki's scepter locked up! That's not what this is about."

Tony matched Clint's glare, ignoring Cap as he searched the archer's gaze. Several tense seconds ticked by before the billionaire narrowed his eyes and muttered, "Fine. So you're not all blue and swirly. Good for you. Doesn't answer my original question, though."

"Which was what?" Clint growled as he dropped back into his chair.

"After everything Loki did to you. After everything he _made_ you do," Tony asked quietly. "Why in the hell would you speak in his defense?"

"I already told you," Clint murmured. "He didn't deserve the punishment that he got."

"Oh, boo-fucking-hoo," Tony sneered. "Daddy gave him a cosmic time-out until he could learn to behave himself. That's so _harsh_!"

"Have care, Stark," Thor rumbled. "You know not of what you speak."

"What? Did they slap his dainty little wrists, too? No dessert until he promised to not commit genocide again?"

"They tortured him," Clint said dully, dropping his gaze once more to the carpet. "They beat him, and broke him, and tore him apart before putting him back together just so they could do it again."

An uncomfortable silence fell over the group at Clint's declaration. Tony's face went pale, and he took a step back before spinning on his heel and stalking to the bar. For a few seconds, the only sound was that of ice cubes clicking, and the gurgle of alcohol filling a glass.

"Who allowed that?" Steve eventually asked, the horror apparent in his voice. "That's…inhumane!"

"Yeah, well…Asgard doesn't exactly abide by the Geneva Convention," Clint huffed.

Steve wiped one hand over his face before turning to face Thor. "Did you know what they were going to do to him? When you took him back to Asgard?"

"There are many punishments that could have been handed down," Thor answered slowly. "I had hoped it would be less…violent than what the council visited upon my brother."

"And once the sentence was passed, why didn't you oppose it?" Steve demanded. "Why didn't you _fight_?"

"It would have been treason," Thor whispered. "And had I been imprisoned, then I could not have done anything to help Loki." The Thunderer paused there for a moment, his brow furrowing before he continued. "I have spent every moment since Loki's trial searching for something to help clear his name."

Tony snorted from across the room and Thor glared his way.

"Awfully optimistic of you," the billionaire muttered, keeping his gaze fixed on the glass clenched in his fist. "Wanting to help someone that tried to _kill_ you. And how many times did he try? Twice that I know of?"

"Be that as it may," Thor rumbled, "Loki is still my brother. None of you know him as I do."

"But Tony's right," Banner said quietly, breaking his silence. "He stabbed you. And when that didn't work, he dropped you from the Helicarrier. Why would you help him after that?"

Thor sighed heavily, scrubbing his hand over his face before answering. "Because the Loki I knew would have never attempted such a thing. Yes, he is the Trickster God, and yes, he had a jealous streak that sometimes clouded his judgment. But _never_ was he a malevolent being! He found his calling in _mischief_, which is a far cry from murder."

"So right from the get-go, you knew something was off," Steve commented.

"Aye," Thor agreed, a mournful edge to his voice. "I tried to reach him; to break through whatever was masking his true nature and speak to the brother I had thought lost." He paused for a heartbeat, turning his head and staring out the glass wall, toward the balcony. "For just a moment, I had hope. He seemed to be listening; weighing the consequences of his actions…and an expression of horror twisted his face. But it was fleeting, that look. His eyes hardened, and with a snarl, he was gone."

Steve crossed to Thor's side, clasping one hand on the Thunderer's shoulder.

"It's hard to lose a loved one," Rogers murmured. "Even harder when it's something other than death that rips them away. Sure, they may still be alive; hell, they might be right in front of you…but the person you knew, and loved, just…isn't there anymore."

"You speak as if you know this truth well," Thor replied.

"I do," Steve said simply. "I know a hell of a lot more about it than I want to."

Clint lifted his gaze from the carpet, studying the compassion in Cap's face. After everything that Steve had lost, and the changed world he had returned to, it wasn't surprising that he'd be the first one to understand Thor's mindset, and the pain that came with it.

_'One down, three to go,'_ Clint thought, hands flexing nervously.

"Fine," Tony spat. "You managed to sway the softie of the group. Don't think the rest of us are going to be that easy."

"Didn't think _any_ of you would be easy," Clint huffed. "I know this came out of left field, and trust me when I say that if you'd told me a week ago that I'd be here right now, speaking up for Loki, I would'a punched you square in the mouth. But things _change_, Tony. I didn't have all the intel before."

"Must've been a hell of a debriefing to get you to switch sides," Tony said.

"I didn't switch _anything_," Clint bristled. "I just found out the _truth_."

"From the God of Lies?" Tony sneered.

"Stop," Bruce said softly.

Tony's gaze snapped to Banner, a brief look of surprise crossing his face. "Really? You're jumping ship, too, Bruce? I thought that out of everyone here you'd…"

"Out of everyone here, _I_ understand how important it is to be given a second chance," Banner cut in. "Although, I'd bet that Natasha knows that lesson, too."

Tony rolled his eyes, a cutting remark on the tip of his tongue before Bruce continued.

"No," he said. "You've had your chance to speak. Now it's my turn, and you're going to listen."

The billionaire's mocking expression morphed into one of shock, and he took a half-step back, eyeing Bruce warily.

"Just…calm down, Brucie," Tony soothed.

"Don't tell me to calm down," Banner snapped. "I'm as calm as I'm going to get, considering the circumstances. But if you keep trying to talk over me, then we're going to have a problem."

"Okay, okay…sorry," Tony replied. "Go on and say what you need to say. I won't interrupt."

"Thank you," Bruce murmured, and looked to each of his team-mates before beginning to speak.

"We're all monsters here," Banner said quietly. "In one way or another, the world would label us such. And yet, each one of us has had a second chance. Steve wanted to be a soldier; to serve his country, and stand for something. But physically, he couldn't pass muster. The serum gave him a second chance at saving the world."

Steve nodded gravely, squeezing Thor's shoulder.

"Tony, you were an _arms dealer_, for Christ's sake," Bruce continued. "You designed and built weapons that killed innumerable people. But you turned that all around, dropping the government contracts and using your suits for good."

"Harsh," Tony mumbled. "And somewhat inaccurate. It's not called arms dealing as long as you have government approval."

"Don't sugar-coat it, Stark," Banner growled. "You had a second chance, and you know it."

Tony shrugged, but his eyes dropped to the carpet, unwilling to meet Bruce's steady gaze.

"Thor was banished; stripped of his powers and dropped on Earth to prove he could become a better version of himself. He sacrificed his _life_ for the people of Puente Antiguo, and in doing so, he regained all that he'd lost."

"Odin afforded me a second chance," Thor whispered.

"I was hunted like an animal," Banner stated, pushing himself up from the couch and beginning to pace. "A wanted man by more governments and organizations than I care to admit. I went deep underground, but SHIELD found me anyway. Even though they could've locked me away and forced me to work for them, or something even worse, Fury gave me a second chance. He gave me my _freedom_."

Bruce sighed, and turned his gaze to the only woman in the room.

"And then there's Natasha," Banner said evenly. "Spy, assassin, double agent. For a very long time, she was considered one of the greatest threats to the western world. So great a threat, in fact, that Clint was tasked with killing her. But he saw something good in her; something worth _saving_…and look where she is now."

Bruce once again looked to Tony and said, "Think about all that before you do anything stupid. Think about what would've happened if someone had argued against any of us having a second chance. Would we have managed to defeat the Chitauri and save the city? Hell, we saved the _world_, and every realm beyond this one…and all because we were given a second chance. Who are you to deny Loki the same?"

Tony downed his drink and turned back to the bar, pouring himself another as he mulled over Bruce's words. He crossed to the window, peering out through the glass for several long moments before he finally spoke.

"Well, it looks like I'm outnumbered," he said, keeping his back to the room. "And I guess you're right, Bruce. It's not my call. I just wish someone would've maybe consulted _us_ before deciding to set him free. And it still doesn't satisfactorily answer my original question."

"Which was?" Banner asked.

"What caused Legolas to do such an abrupt about-face?"

"Simple," Natasha piped up, drawing a curious look from Clint. "He's in love."

"Oh, Jesus Christ," Clint groaned, dropping his face into his hands.

"He's _what_?" Tony asked, turning from the window to lever a hard look Clint's way. "You're _what_?!" He cut his eyes to Natasha, asking, "And how do you know that?"

The red-head gave an expansive shrug, stating, "I know what love looks like on Clint. What it _sounds_ like. I know him well enough to tell."

"Well that's just goddamn wonderful," Tony sputtered. "They say love makes you do stupid things but _this_? I mean…wait a minute; color me confused because didn't you and _Natasha_ used to have a thing? Since when are you _gay_?"

"I'm not gay, you jackass," Clint spat through clenched teeth.

"No? So what, then? Is it safe to assume that Loki has something _special_ hidden away under that long coat of his?"

"Keep that line of questioning up, and I'm gonna knock your fucking teeth out, Stark," the archer growled.

Tony raised his hands, soothing, "Okay, okay, you don't kiss and tell. I respect that. But Jesus, Barton, long-distance relationships are pretty rough even under the best of circumstances. Does this mean you're going to be running off to Asgard every other weekend?"

"Not necessary," Clint mumbled, his anger draining away in the face of another wave of apprehension.

"Oh Clint, you didn't," Tasha whispered.

"Didn't what?" Tony asked before realization dawned on his face. "Wait. You brought him _here_? He's here, isn't he?!"

"Well, he's not _here_," Clint answered slowly. "I'm not stupid enough to bring him to the Tower."

"But he's on Earth?" Tony pressed.

Clint nodded, feeling the weight of four pairs of eyes on him.

"You did _what_!?" Tony demanded, looking wildly from one face to another before turning his gaze back to Clint. "Why would you think that was a _good_ idea?!" The billionaire kicked the end table nearest him, swearing up a blue streak before he growled out, "Jarvis? Get my suit."

Clint sighed, his eyes fixed on the floor as voices erupted around him. Thor was hefting his hammer, and promising dire repercussions should Stark continue that course of action. Banner had backed away, holding his silence. Steve, of course, was attempting to be the voice of reason. And Tasha? Well, Clint could feel her stare burning into the top of his head.

"Goddamn it, Tony," Clint snapped. "Quit calling for your suit or I'm gonna let Thor put his hammer right through your thick skull."

"Can I at least ask why they sent him here?" the billionaire groused. "Or is that going to prompt you to threaten my winning smile again?"

"I _might_ have suggested it to the Asgardian version of the parole board," Clint admitted.

Tony groaned and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. "Of course you did," the billionaire stated. "I know I'm starting to sound like a broken record, but _why_?"

"It worked for Thor," Clint shrugged. "Figured it might do Loki some good, too."

"I learned many a valuable lesson here on Midgard," Thor offered eagerly. "And having the Hawk's companionship is something that could benefit my brother. Love can heal most wounds."

"Yeah, we'll see about that, I suppose," Tony sighed.

"Look, I know this is a shock," Clint said quietly. "And I don't expect you to be 100% on board immediately. But I'm not gonna lie…it would be nice if you guys had my back on this. I mean, I'll be lucky if Fury doesn't string me up by my balls once he finds out."

"You haven't told _Fury_ yet?" Tony asked gleefully. "Oh, you've got my vote, Katniss. I will _definitely_ come along for that conversation."

"Thanks…I think," Clint huffed. "Do you have to sound so happy about it, though?"

"Hell yes, I do," Tony replied. "This whole situation nearly gave me the mother of all panic attacks. And Bruce _yelled_ at me. I think I've earned a bit of gloating over your peril."

"What's that old saying about not needing enemies when you have friends like these?" Natasha chuckled.

"I know that one," Steve remarked, turning a pointed look Tony's way.

"Hey, don't look at _me_," the billionaire protested. "It's not like I'm the one _dating_ a former enemy."

"You're gonna give me shit over this for a while to come, aren't you?" Clint asked.

"Of course I am," Tony agreed. "And if the situation were reversed, you would do the same. That's what friends _do_."

"Awesome," Clint deadpanned. "Totally looking forward to it."

"Great!" Tony exclaimed, clapping Clint heartily on the back. "Hey, why don't you bring Loki along to movie night? I've got an oldie but a goodie picked out for next week. Julia Roberts and Patrick Bergin in 'Sleeping With the Enemy'."

"Oh my god, I hate you," Clint muttered.

"Right back at you, Barton," Tony grinned. "Right back at you."


	2. Round Two

"Well, now that we've got that out of the way," Tony exclaimed, clapping his hands together and rubbing them briskly. "Who wants breakfast? I feel like pancakes. Bruce? Blondie? You guys want pancakes?"

"I could eat," Bruce allowed.

"Steve?" Tony asked. "How 'bout you, big guy? Pancakes?"

"Sure, that sounds good."

"Alright, three out of five. Majority rules," Tony chuckled. "C'mon, Legolas, you're on flipping duty."

"Not so fast," Natasha countered. "I'd like a minute to talk with Clint."

"Sure," Tony agreed, leaning against the couch. "We can hold off on eating for a while."

"Alone," Natasha said pointedly.

"Seriously?" the billionaire questioned. "You're going to kick me out of my own living room?"

"Sir?" Jarvis cut in. "This area is now only one-fifth yours, as the upper floors of the building have been reassigned as Avenger's Tower."

"Oh, now you speak up," Tony groused. "Where were you twenty minutes ago?"

"Stark," Natasha snapped. "Now."

"Okay, okay," Tony replied, raising his hands in a soothing gesture as he backed away. "Don't get bent out of shape. We're going."

Natasha held Stark's gaze as she added, "And Jarvis? Turn off all the recording devices for this room, please. Including the ones Tony thinks we don't know about."

"At once, Ms. Romanov," Jarvis answered.

"And now you're taking orders from her," Tony exclaimed before turning his attention to Natasha. "You wound me with your accusations, Red. Do you really think I would…"

"I used to work for you, Stark," Natasha cut in. "So I know all of your dirty little secrets. Or did you forget about that?"

Tony's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, his eyes still locked with hers. "Most of my secrets," he finally muttered. "Not all."

"Doesn't matter," she growled. "I know enough. Now go and make your pancakes while we talk."

"Yes, ma'am," Tony sassed, throwing the red-head a mock salute before spinning on his heel and stalking away.

Thor lingered in the doorway after the others had gone, his gaze darting between the two assassins as he frowned lightly in worry.

"You, too, Thor," Natasha ordered.

"Clint? Are you certain?" Thor asked softly.

"Go ahead," Clint said. "You don't have to stand guard. It's not like she's gonna hurt me." Clint's brow furrowed as he turned his gaze to the red-head. "You're not…are you?"

Natasha shrugged, stating, "Only if you give me a reason."

"Wasn't planning on it," the archer murmured.

"Good," Natasha replied, leaning forward and catching Clint's gaze. "I just want to talk."

"I will leave you to it, then," Thor rumbled.

"Thanks, buddy," Clint said. "I'll catch up after a bit. Make sure to save some food for me."

Thor gave a tentative smile before backing out of the room and leaving the two assassins alone.

"So…." Clint began. "What did you want to know?"

"How did this happen?" the red-head demanded. "When did it happen? And why is this the first I'm hearing of it?"

"Wow, okay," Clint huffed, scrubbing his palm over the nape of his neck. "Straight to the point, just like always."

Natasha's mouth firmed down into a thin line and she arched one eyebrow at Clint, her universal code for 'Speak now, before I punch the truth out of you.'

"It's not that simple, Tasha," Clint grumbled. "Hell, even if this was your run of the mill relationship, it's sorta hard to boil it down to those three points."

"I need you to try," Natasha said. "This came out of nowhere, and I need you to make me understand."

"Well, fuck," Clint muttered. "No pressure, or anything. And what about my previous explanation wasn't good enough for you? Why the need for the Russian Inquisition?"

"Clint, you are one of the few people on this planet that I would call a friend," Natasha stated firmly. "And I will always have your back. But the last six months have been…difficult, and I don't want to feel like you've been keeping things from me."

"Difficult," Clint snapped. "Difficult? Really? That's the understatement of the century."

Natasha cocked her head to the side, eyes boring into Clint's. He felt the swell of anger slowly drain away under her watchful gaze, and he huffed out a deep breath.

"It's not like I meant to hide this, 'Tasha," he said quietly before pausing for a long moment. "Hell, if anything, I was lying to myself most of all."

"Explain," the redhead prompted, leaning back in her seat and crossing one leg over the other.

"Everything about this situation was fucked," Clint murmured. "From the moment Loki appeared, I was fucked. The way he took me over…the things he made me do? I-I've never had to deal with anything like that."

"That much I do understand," Natasha offered.

"Figured you might," Clint returned. "I struggled with all that from the moment I came back to myself. But there was more. I felt…lost without Loki. And the fact that he'd abandoned me…just left me behind on the helicarrier…that really fucking stung. Even though I knew I should be glad to be shed of him, it still hurt. And I couldn't figure out why, so I just chalked it up to a remnant of the scepter's influence."

"You really didn't know?" Natasha asked.

"Not then," Clint sighed. "I mean, he kidnapped me, brainwashed me, and made me kill my own. Everything inside me was screaming that he was the enemy, and you don't have compassion for the enemy. You just…don't."

"I was the enemy once," the redhead murmured.

"That was different," Clint said.

"Not by much."

"Still, different enough," the archer replied, dropping the gaze to the floor between his feet.

"Fine," she conceded. "So you woke up angry and confused; I know that much. But you shut me out after that. Wouldn't talk to me about anything having to do with Loki, or your time under his control. What was happening in your head, Clint?"

"I just kept telling myself I should hate him; that I did hate him. But every day that passed, I had a little harder time convincing myself. I had this weird, empty feeling in my chest, and I told myself that it was because I hadn't really made him pay for what he'd done to me."

"But there was something more, wasn't there?" Natasha ventured.

Clint's eyes snapped up to meet her level stare, searching her gaze.

"What do you mean?" he asked carefully.

Natasha shrugged, stating, "You left something out of your earlier explanation. I'm curious as to what that is."

"Uh, and how exactly do you know if I left anything out?"

"How long have we known each other?" Natasha shot back. "And how many missions have we run together? Goddamn it, Clint…I know you. I know when you're outright lying, and I know when you're telling half-truths. So how about you stop trying to misrepresent what went down between you two and just own up to it already? Don't make me have to pry it out of you."

"Okay, fine," Clint huffed as he pushed to his feet, pacing nervously around the sofa as he considered his next words.

"Go on," Natasha urged. "I'm not here to judge, Clint. I just want to understand."

"Good, 'cause I'm getting pretty fucking tired of judgmental assholes," the archer bit out. "Don't wanna add you to that particular list."

"So tell me, then."

"It's a long story," Clint began. "So you're gonna get the Cliff Notes version."

"That's fine," Natasha said. "I don't need all the gory details."

"Good, 'cause you're definitely not getting those," Clint snorted.

He paused then for a long moment before continuing quietly. "There was an…incident in Stuttgart, and as a result Loki pulled the thrall off me. Well, mostly, anyway. I couldn't fight him…but he gave me back everything else. I could speak freely and make my own decisions. And I made a pretty big one regarding him."

"You slept with him," Natasha stated.

Clint tapped his forefinger against his nose. "Give the lady a prize," he murmured absently.

"And he released you to, what? Ask your consent?"

The archer nodded, stealing a quick glance Natasha's way as he paced.

"I wouldn't have pegged Loki as someone who would care about something like that," the redhead admitted. "From what we saw of him, he was all about…subjugation."

"Everyone has a line, 'Tasha," Clint said pointedly. "You know that as well as anyone."

"True," she sighed. "So you slept with Loki. Did that change your mind about him at all?"

"A little," Clint answered. "He was…different when we were together."

"How so?" Natasha asked.

"It's hard to explain," Clint huffed. "But it was there, in the way he touched me…the way he looked at me. There was a remorse that he hadn't shown before. Hell, by the end I was half convinced he was gonna turn me loose."

"But he didn't," the redhead said quietly.

"No," Clint agreed. "And I didn't know why until after Thor dragged me off to Asgard, and Loki finally told me the truth."

"Which was what, exactly?" Natasha prodded.

"That Loki was enthralled, too," Clint murmured. "Thanos had him under a lesser form of mind control, and Loki's handler was gonna use me as a way to keep him in line. He had to convince them that he wasn't soft on me, that he didn't care one way or the other what happened to me, so he just…put me back under."

"In his own twisted way, Loki was protecting you," Natasha whispered.

"Exactly," Clint sighed. "And once I found that out? I felt even worse about trying to hate him. But do you see what I mean now? About how fucked up this whole thing is? And why I wasn't open to talking to you…or anyone…about this? How could I explain Stuttgart in a way that wouldn't have ended up with me in a cell somewhere? Or at the very least, I would have had to spend a hell of a lot more time with the shrinks."

Natasha cocked her head to the side, studying Clint as he sank down onto the couch next to her. The expression on the archer's face was a strange mixture of tension and relief, and she felt a twinge of empathy for him.

"The last six months had to have been hell for you," she said softly.

Clint huffed out a strained laugh and gave a brief nod. "That's putting it mildly."

"What we do? How we live our lives, and the company we keep? It's all built on lies, Clint," Natasha stated simply. "But what you went through was something altogether different. The lies we tell in the service of S.H.I.E.L.D. can be justified…to a point. And once a mission is done? We walk away and wash our hands of what we've done."

The redhead paused there, searching Clint's gaze for a long moment before adding, "You didn't have that luxury."

"Nope," the archer murmured.

"I can understand why you didn't confide in me. But I really wish you would have."

"How could I, though?" Clint questioned. "How could I have broached this without you thinking I was still compromised? Hell, we still don't know how the scepter works, or why you scrambling my brain managed to bring me back. I was scared, Tasha. The whole situation was fucked, and I just…shut down."

"So where's your head at now?" Natasha asked softly.

Clint leaned back into the cushions, scrubbing his hands over his face before turning his gaze back to the redhead at his side.

"I'm still scared," he admitted slowly. "But for a whole different set of reasons. Part of me is relieved that this is finally out in the open, though."

"And Loki?"

"What about him?" Clint asked carefully.

"Your beginnings were…unorthodox, at best. Have you made peace with that?"

"It's difficult," Clint allowed. "But I'm getting there. Finally learning the truth of the matter helped a lot, in that respect. And I definitely…care about him."

"Even after all this time, you still can't say the word, can you?" Natasha asked with a soft smile, bumping her shoulder against his playfully.

"I'm getting there," Clint repeated firmly.

"Then I'm happy for you," the redhead stated. "And I've got your back, no matter what."

"Good," Clint remarked dryly. "Pretty sure I'm gonna need back up when I talk to Fury. Maybe you and Tony can help sway him enough that he won't kill me outright."

"If you're lucky," Natasha grinned. "Which, so far, you seem to be."

"We'll see if that holds up, I guess," Clint huffed.

"That we will," Natasha agreed as she pushed to her feet. "But let's not worry about that just yet, okay? Breakfast first, and then we'll worry about Fury."

"How about we leave Fury until tomorrow," Clint suggested. "I've had my fill of getting yelled at today."

"Fair enough," Natasha said.


End file.
